


Waffle Studies

by emma98



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, ShieldShock - Freeform, bring a toothbrush it's about to get fluffy, chances are it's a fluffy kid fic prompt cause that's how I roll, nearly always bucky/nat as well, prompt collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-08-23 07:32:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8319250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emma98/pseuds/emma98
Summary: This is a collection of non-related prompts I have been given and posted on tumblr.Always Shieldshock, and usually with Bucky/Nat as well.Chapter Seven: White Feather, a Darcy gets cold feet moments before her wedding.Chapter Eight: 99 Candles (for a special birthday boy)Chapter Nine: Awful Waffles!





	1. Jane Foster is not as oblivious as you think...

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Welcome! The name of this drabble collection comes from my tumblr name. wahwahwaffles. There is a story behind this username actually. My mother thought I was a smart ass eighteen month old once upon a time, saying waaah waaaah, constantly to her, but not in a crying way. Just a sort of sound? And then I said wah wah waaaaaahfles. I wasn't being a smart ass cry baby. I just really wanted waffles. it was my first word I said aside from Mommy and milky. So it's sort of a really specific nickname for me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First up? from nemhaine42: "I'll do anything you ask, just don't tell Natasha". Jane and Bucky have some interaction, because why the heck not?

Jane noticed first.

 

Most people thought that Jane was a scatterbrained scientist, unable to tie her own shoe laces properly.  And yes, there were certainly times when Darcy might have had to prompt her to do normal human things instead of science, but those were only when the atmospheric pressure was right and the alignment of CL-1834 was correct and when she was working so hard to get the Bifrost open again so she could  smack be reunited with Thor.

 

On normal days, Jane noticed a lot of things.  

 

She noticed that Darcy had not really been settling well into their new digs in the remote area of Alaska that Thor had dropped them off at two months ago.  She noticed that the girl who had followed her around the universe taking care of her and, in her own words,  _ kicking ass and taking names _ , had definitely been a little blue to be stuck back on Earth after two years of space travel.  She noticed that Darcy had definitely faced depression while she struggled to figure out what it was she was supposed to do at this Secret Avengers Facility. 

 

And she definitely noticed when Steve Rogers had realized that her research assistant was out of sorts.  He’d given her new duties at the facility, utilizing her social media skills and the not quite Friday AI system to analyze and predict certain events.  Darcy had managed to give good leads on a few uprisings and ill usage of alien tech in the four weeks she had been doing her new job, and when Steve had publically thanked her in front of everyone, Darcy had grinned bigger and happier than she had since Odin had begrudgingly told her that she was one of the more impressive Midgardians he had ever come across.  

 

Jane had also seen the way the former Captain America had watched Darcy intently at all meals and gatherings, concern and interest coloring his expression in a very nice, favorable way.  Even when Steve and Sam Wilson had gone out and retrieved Bucky Barnes from Wakanda, bringing his newly rehabilitated self back to the facility, Steve still would stare at Darcy from across a room, definitely googly eyed.

 

Natasha had noticed too.  And she and Jane had spoken of it briefly.  It was decided that it was just smarter to let the two people find their own way to each other, rather than interfere.  Steve was nearly ready after a disastrous attempt at long distance dating with Sharon Carter, and Darcy was finally pulling out of her blue spell.  The ladies had agreed that given enough time, Darcy would notice that Steve thought she hung the moon, and she’d make a move.

 

But apparently, that hadn’t been enough for one James Buchanan Barnes.  

 

Natasha had been off base for less than two weeks when Darcy started receiving little gifts at her desk: flowers, boxes of chocolates, cute little magnets of puppies and kittens, all along with a big cup of heavily sugared and whipped cream coated coffee.  Each gift came with a note.  Darcy never showed the notes, but Jane glimpsed one a few days ago when Darcy was sharing the dark chocolate covered sea salt caramels.  

 

_ You’re the sweetest dame in the world.  From, Your Secret Admirer. _

 

Jane noticed it was Bucky leaving the notes right away and had a moment of panic.  Darcy had gotten herself into a love triangle during their travels with a cosmic prince and his squire, and she had  _ hated _ it.  Jane doubted Darcy being in the middle of a super soldier love triangle would be any better.

 

And then of course there was Natasha.  

 

Jane had noticed their reunion, even when no one else had.  She’d seen Natasha exit the common room first, and saw Bucky follow exactly fifteen seconds later.  An hour and a half later had Natasha returning, looking no worse for the wear, but Bucky had come back in another fifteen seconds later looking decidedly rumpled, delightfully satisfied, and  _ definitely _ had a lipstick mark on his neck the exact shade that Natasha had been wearing.  

 

Jane doubted Darcy would ever try to fight the Black Widow for a man.  Darcy was all about the sisterhood and so was Natasha.  Bucky would probably be left out in the cold (but not in a cold cryofreeze unit so, upgrade), and Natasha and Darcy would probably walk off into the sunset together arm in arm.  

 

Jane had not been named a Nobel Prize winner for nothing, though, and she quickly came to the conclusion that Bucky was not trying to woo Darcy.  Or he was trying to woo her, but not for himself.  He was doing it for  _ Steve _ .

 

Which was just so laughably adorable, that Jane let him sneak into the labs everyday, thinking himself silent as he dropped off Darcy’s daily gift and note.  She didn’t ever hear him move, but she’d set up a system with Friday to let her know when someone entered the lab.  Her phone would buzz and the not quite Friday AI would send her an emoji, either a happy face or a mad frowny face to indicate friend or foe.  Asgard had a similar system, but it was basically a low tech version that resembled a town crier at the doorway to her workspace calling out ‘ _ ENEMY OF JANE APPROACHES _ ’ or ‘ _ BENEVOLENT FRIEND OF JANE APPROACHES’ _ .  It had come in handy when there had been that invasion had happened that one time, so Jane had decided to enact the protocol everywhere.

 

Jane sniffed the air on the fourteenth visit of Bucky to the labs and shook her head.

 

“Nope, no, dude, she’s allergic to roses!” Jane called out from her space back in the lab.  “She’ll be sneezing all day, and a snotty Darcy is not a fun Darcy!”

 

Jane went back to her work, and exactly thirty seconds later, Bucky Barnes was standing in front of her, a quizzical look pushing his brows together.  

 

“Bring more of those chocolate pretzels.  We liked the chocolate pretzels,” Jane advised.  She looked up from her paperwork to see Bucky still looking at her in curious astonishment, and a hint of a frown on his face, as if he were upset that he was losing his touch.  “Seriously, relax, super soldier spy cupid.  I have an alarm on the lab, I know you’re trying to get Darcy and Steve to stop awkwardly staring at each other from across a crowded dining room table.”

 

“I---” Bucky opened his mouth to speak, but thought a little better at it as he looked down at Jane’s desk.  There were two framed pictures.  One of Jane with Thor, Erik Selvig and Darcy, and one of Jane with Natasha and Darcy.

 

“I would have thought that Natasha would have told you not to meddle,” Jane looked up and gave him a small scolding look.  “They don’t need shenanigans.  What they need is time.”

 

“I’ll do anything you ask, just don’t tell Natasha,” Bucky said quickly, his eyes going just a fraction wider.  

 

“Ooohhhh,” Jane fought a grin for about half a second before letting it stretch her lips with definite glee.  “I like the sound of that.”

 

Bucky sighed heavily.

 

“She told me not to meddle too, said they’d find their way to each other in a month or two, but I said it could be done faster,” Bucky admitted.  “Stevie’s halfway in love with her already, and I just wanted…”

 

“Sure, sure, bromance for the ages, you wanted to do your bestie a solid,” Jane nodded up at him.  She tapped her pen on her still smiling lips and nodded.  “And now that you’ve started this mess, you have to keep it up until Steve confesses, because if Darcy stops getting secret admirer notes and gifts, she’s gonna be sad.”

 

“I hadn’t thought about that,” Bucky admitted.  He sighed and sat down on Jane’s desk, his arms crossing over his chest.  “He keeps trying to get the courage to ask her on a date.  But he’s got himself convinced she doesn’t want him.”

 

“She has a Captain America stuffed animal...golden retriever puppy, she takes it with her everywhere,” Jane laughed.  “He’s not going to have a problem there.”

 

“So---as her best friend, do you have any ideas?” Bucky wondered, aiming that rusty, but still super effective grin down at Jane.

 

“Well, one, take away the roses and bring back the chocolate covered pretzels,” Jane held up one finger and nodded at herself in agreement.  “Two, I’m not the biggest expert on men, but I am kind of an expert on super heroes.  So either you put Darcy in a dangerous situation that Steve has to rescue her from…”

 

“Jesus,” Bucky’s eyes went wide.

 

“Oh my god, I forgot, you were probably asleep during the late eighties and early nineties, you missed all of ABC’s TGIF line-up,” Jane nodded.  “Instead, if you want Steve to make a move first, you just need to flirt with Darcy.  Once will probably be all it takes.”

 

“I could do that,” Bucky nodded.  He pursed his lips thoughtfully and Jane could see the wheels turning in his brain as he wondered if he could actually do that or not.  

 

“And three, if you are insistent on going against Natasha’s direct orders on this one, and you really don’t want her to find out,” Jane got a wicked little gleam in her eye.  “I am going to need to borrow that shiny new vibranium arm of yours.”

 

Bucky expelled a nearly silent breath before closing his eyes in resignation.  “Shit.”

 

**

 

“How did you get Bucky Barnes to hold up your fancy, ionized weather vane again?” Darcy wondered as they set up camp about ten miles from the base.  Jane had gotten a strange reading a few days ago and they were investigating to make sure it was just a fluke, and not some alien about to encroach on the Earth’s atmosphere.  

 

“He owed me one,” Jane shrugged.  She looked over to the van, where Steve and Sam were unpacking large equipment boxes.  “It’s nice, because he comes with a pretty strong security detail.”

 

“Still, doesn’t seem right to have him just stand there holding that thing up,” Darcy admitted.  She turned her head a little to the side and shrugged.  Bucky was standing stock still, holding up a large metal stick with his left arm, his entire body taut and stretched and seemingly never tiring of holding up the heavy weight.   “It makes a pretty view though.”

 

“You think this is a pretty view, doll, you should see the back end!” Bucky called out gaily. 

 

Jane winced when she heard one of her boxes dropped, presumably by Steve.  

 

“Fuck you, Barnes!” Sam laughed.  “If she wants a back end worth looking at, I’ve got it right here.  She doesn’t need to be looking at Sargeant Flat Butt and Captain Little Ass.”

 

“Wilson!” Steve grumbled.

 

“Just sayin’,” Sam threw Darcy a wink.

 

Jane watched with amusement as Darcy sauntered over to Bucky, and walked in a slow circle around him, looking at him appraisingly.

 

“I can see the appeal,” she shrugged.

 

“You should see it in better lighting,” Bucky winked at her.

 

Darcy barely had time to blush properly before Steve came stomping over, glaring daggers at Bucky before looking down at Darcy, the glare immediately disappearing and a shy smile in its place.

 

“Darcy, could you help me with the equipment?  I just need to know where everything goes.”

 

“Alright,” Darcy did blush when Steve put his hand at the small of her back, guiding her away from a smirking Bucky.  

 

Sam wrinkled his nose as he came to stand side by side with Jane.  He threw Bucky the middle finger when Bucky winked at Jane.

 

“Those guys missed the entire 90’s, they don’t know a Saved by the Bell plotline when they see it,” Sam grumbled.

 

“It’s a beautiful thing, really,” Jane nodded.

 

Sam nodded a little before a full grin bloomed on his face, “We should take advantage of that, really.”

 

“Don’t tell Natasha, but I  _ totally  _ am down with whatever you want to do there.”

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	2. This is Halloween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> from tumblr user joustingdirewhals: Since I'm procrastinating on homework here's a prompt: Adorable Child of Darcy and Steve comes to the tower for sometime of Halloween themed party, dressed up as the everyday/out of uniform version of one of the Avengers-like Clint in all purple -because said tiny child thinks that that person is a hero everyday, not just when they are out fighting. Anyone works, extra points if it's someone that needs reminding that they are always important and good, not just when avenging
> 
> TINY CHILDREN ARE MY FAVS.

**

 

Halloween was never a really big thing for Steve and Bucky when they were growing up.  Or, rather, it certainly wasn't the spectacle it was in this new millenia.  And that suited them just find.  Bucky loved dressing up.  Steve loved spooky things.  And both super soldiers really loved candy.  Darcy had loved Halloween equally due to what she called a 'goth phase', so she always threw the best parties.  It was how she and Steve officially met actually, a few years ago.  She'd thrown a party at the new Avengers Facility and somehow managed to get all superheroes to attend, in costume.

 

Steve had lost a bet and Sam had won the right to costume he and Bucky for it, so Bucky, who had been in desperate need of a haircut, was dressed as Cousin It from the Addams Family and Steve had been put into an old fashioned tuxedo, and his hair slicked back to resemble Mr. Gomez Addams.

 

It had been dumb luck that Darcy had dressed herself as Morticia Addams (and what a lovely sight she had made, looking like a true hourglass).  She'd been delighted to see his outfit, had made him attempt to call her his darling in any kind of accent he could manage, and he'd essentially been calling her his darling ever since.

 

When Benji was born though, the elaborate parties that Steve's wife Darcy had planned began to slowly change.  Gone were the endless bars full of booze and instead they were replaced with warm apple cider and bowls of spooky green punch complete with dry ice smoke.  Nowadays, instead of ironic stripper poles and dancing cages set up in the corners of the room, there was bobbing for apples and pin the tail on the mummy.  

 

And yet, Steve definitely still really loved it.  (For his part, Bucky missed the booze and the stripper poles, but there was still candy and now, an adorable little four year old nephew to spoil rotten, so he wasn't really complaining.  And of course Natasha, he'd always want to be where Natasha was, but that was a given).  

 

This year however, Benji had decided NOT to be apart of his parents' matching costumes. When Benji had just been six months old, the little family had dressed up as Popeye, Olive Oil and baby Sweetpea (Bucky had been Brutus and had a lot of fun doing it).  When the baby was eighteen months old, they’d gone as Boo, Sully and Mike Wazowski (Bucky had thrown on a yellow hazmat suit).  At the age of two, it was the cast of the Wizard of Oz, with Darcy as Dorothy, Steve as the scarecrow, Benji as the cowardly lion (Bucky, much to Sam's delight, was the Tin Man).  And last year they'd let Benji plan the costumes, and had wound up going as Barney and Betty Rubble with BamBam, or as Benji called it, the people from the vitamins (Bucky had been Fred.  He still kept the loincloth to wear on particularly hot summer days).

 

But at the ripe and mature age of four, Benji had decided he no longer wanted to participate in family costume shenanigans.  It had broken Darcy's heart, and she had sobbed for hours about it.  That might have had something to do with the fact that she had been four months pregnant at the time, and couldn't stop herself from crying at soda commercials.  It had taken Steve a few days to get her out of her desolation about that, but eventually, it was agreed upon that it wasn't something to be sad about.  They were raising a smart, independent and fierce little boy, and of course he should want and receive some independence.

 

So when they walked into Darcy's Halloween party in their costumes, Steve dressed as Charlie Brown, Darcy dressed as a giant, pregnant pumpkin, and their little four year old dressed in a pair of distressed jeans and a rumpled and coffee stained purple t-shirt, they held their heads high.  They had no idea what their precious little baby boy was, but he seemed to be happy enough with his golden blonde hair both falling into his eyes and standing up haphazardly at the same time.

 

"Charlie Brown and the Great Pumpkin, NICE," Sam grinned, holding out his flippers (the penguin costume was really adorable, actually) to touch Darcy's very large baby bump that was still very noticeable beneath a giant, roomy pumpkin costume.  "May I?"

 

"If you must," Darcy rolled her eyes.  

 

No one but Steve and Benji and Natasha got to touch the baby bump.  And once or twice a day Darcy would politely ask Bucky to put his left hand on her stomach to read very important vitals.  But Darcy had lost a bet with Sam, and now he got to touch her baby bump whenever he wanted to.  He claimed it gave him good luck with the ladies.  That had yet to be seen, though.

 

"How's Samantha doing in there?" Sam wondered.

 

"Jamie," Bucky corrected him with a sneer, before adjusting his left felt ear on his Snoopy costume.  Benji may not want to dress up as part of a group, but Bucky had no problem with it.

 

"They're fine," Steve said tersely.  "Hands off my wife, Wilson."

 

"Relax man, just soaking in the good luck vibes," Sam insisted.  "Maria's here tonight and I need to make sure I do whatever I can to get me some of that."

 

"Gross," Darcy shook her head.  She looked to Steve and said, "Would it be harpy-ish of me to insist we only have non-single friends from here on out?"

 

"Doll, what about me?" Bucky wondered.

 

Darcy gave him an unimpressed look.  Natasha appeared out of thin air, standing next to Bucky, dressed in a stunning little yellow dress, complete with a feather boa the color of lemons.  

 

"I'm single!" Bucky insisted.

 

"Are you?" Natasha asked curiously.  She shrugged and began walking away, throwing a wink to little Benji.  "Good to know."

 

"Natalia, wait, I didn't mean that, I just meant unmarried!" Bucky insisted, chasing after the Woodstock to his Snoopy.

 

"So, what are you little man?" Sam looked down at Benji curiously.  "Are you Pig Pen?"

 

"I don't stink," Benji disputed.  "I'm awesome this year."

 

"Uh huh," Sam nodded.  "You look like you just had a rough day on the playground, is all."

 

Benji wrinkled his nose at his Uncle Sam in an expression directly inherited from his mother.  Five year old JJ Foster-Thorsdottir came rushing up to her best friend from the refreshment table, where she had just drunk her body weight in spooky green, highly sugared punch.  

 

"HI! HI BENJI! HI! LET'S GO BOB FOR APPLES OKAY! LET'S GOOOOOOooooooo!" JJ Foster-Thorsdottir was bouncing on the balls of her feet, her bright hazel eyes zooming around  the room at hyperspeed.  

 

She was nicknamed JJ, because Thor had insisted on naming her after the Asgardian custom of naming the offpspring after the great predecessor.  He thought it only fair that his beautiful daughter get to be named after her mother as well as her father.  Her official name was Jane Junior Foster-Thorsdottir.  Darcy had been merciful and convinced Thor that JJ was just as honorable of a name.  

 

The sweet little blonde with her bambi like eyes was officially nine months and two weeks older than Benji.  Darcy and Steve MAY have gotten a case of baby fever when they had officially met the baby girl on Steve's first trip to Asgard.  Thor PROBABLY gave them his official Fertility blessing the night Benji was conceived.  

 

JJ was hyperactive on a good day, what with all of Jane's brilliance and determination mixed with Thor's own brilliance and energy, the little girl was usually knee deep into trouble, and Benji was usually right by her side, smiling that little smirk he had inherited from his father. Tonight, the tiny, but powerful little lady was dressed similarly to Benji, with ripped up jeans, a purple t-shirt that looked like it had been specially wrinkled.  Her blond hair was on the top of her little head in a messy knot that looked like she had touched the wrong end of Mjolnir.

 

"OH!" Darcy gasped out in realization of what the two children were dressed as.

 

"Are you alright, sweetheart?" Steve asked quickly, bending at the knee to look her in the eye.  He put his hands on her bump and tried to remain calm.  "Is it the babies?"

 

"No, No, I just realized who they were," Darcy shook her head.  She pointed to little JJ's jeans, and hanging out of the back pocket by its handle was a little, child sized coffee pot.  It was only filled with a tiny amount of punch, but was clearly a prop and obviously meant the children were dressing up as their favorite retired Avenger.

 

"Hold on--- _ babies _ ?" Sam held up both fins, a bewildered look on his face.  

 

"Did you just say babies?" Natasha reappeared very suddenly, Bucky quickly following, his Snoopy costume only looking a little rumpled.  

 

Bucky smiled at Darcy.  He'd known very quickly thanks to his daily vital reading that there had been two heartbeats instead of one, but he'd kept it quiet, just as Darcy and Steve had asked him to, until they were ready to let the big news slip.

 

"Yes?" Darcy nodded.  "I thought Bucky would've told you."

 

"You kept a secret from me," Natasha looked at him with a blank face.

 

"That I did," Bucky nodded.

 

"No one has ever been able to do that before," Natasha whispered.

 

"I know," Bucky forced his lips not to turn upwards into a grin.

 

"I kind of love you," Natasha blinked.

 

"I know that too," Bucky shrugged.  He grinned then and gave he a wink, “I kind of love you too.”

 

“Disgusting,” Sam muttered.

 

"So why are the two of you little adorable geniuses dressed like Hawkeye?" Darcy steered the conversation back to Benji and JJ.  She had read a book that said it was important to split focus and attention on all of the kids, and she was genuinely curious why her son had dressed up like normal, everyday Clint Barton.

 

"Cooper's a big fathead," Benji pursed his tiny mouth, an imitation of his father's.  He looked in that moment like a small Steve Rogers about to go and pick a fight for no good reason.  

 

"And Lila is mean," JJ nodded.  "And Nathaniel is a fart face."

 

"Hey, not nice!" Sam reminded the kids.  

 

"S'true!" Benji disputed.  "They made Uncle Clint feel bad and said he wasn't cool anymore cause he's retired and not a real Avenger no more."

  
  


"But he's awesome cause he taught us to hide gooder," JJ nodded.  "And showed us how to step on feet the right way to make the ouchies happen."

 

"Yes he did, and that's a really good thing," Steve agreed.  "Let's go find Clint, see what he thinks of your costumes."

 

"Silly Daddy, he's up there in the corner, watching us right now," Benji pointed Clint's perch out. 

 

Steve ruffled his son's hair some more, before turning and giving Clint a smirk and a nod.  Everyone knew that Clint's household had undergone a massive shift in hormones as of late.  The two eldest Bartons were hitting their teens, and an eight year old Nathaniel was not about to be outshined by his older, hormonal siblings.  They'd been giving their parents literal hell and way more attitude than seemed necessary.

 

Clint escaped to the base as often as Laura would let him to get some distance from what he himself had declared Idiot Brat Central.

 

"You're a wonderful little man, Benji," Darcy smiled down at her first born, feeling a rush of affection when the little man hugged her around her legs tight.  

 

"What about me? Huh? ME, Aunt Darce, ME?" JJ demanded.

 

"You're a wonderful little lady, JJ," Darcy agreed, and soon enough the little Thordottir had also wound her arms around Darcy's legs. 

 

Between the two of them, Darcy was feeling the blood flow lessen to her feet.  

 

"Okay, super kids, why don't you go and chat with Hawkeye?" Bucky wondered, knowing that JJ had strength that had been gifted by the Gods, and Benji had strength  from a diluted version of the serum that had been gifted to him by being Steve's son.  "Let's see your best Clint impersonations."

 

"Awww, candy, no," Benji sighed.

 

"It's better from the pot," JJ said with a fake, gravelly voice, pulling her little coffee pot from its hanging place in her back pocket and taking a long swallow. " BENJI!  I JUST REMEMBERED, PUNCH!  LET'S GET PUNCH!"

 

"So---can we get back to the whole twins thing of it all?" Sam wondered as the kids scampered.

 

"They run in my family," Darcy admitted, her hands going to her pumpkin belly.  She caught a look at Steve, who was beaming with pride and happiness.  "It skips a generation, but still, my mother was a twin..."

 

"I'm just wondering what we're gonna do if this pair don't take after Darcy?" Bucky wondered with a small, shit eating smirk on his face.  "Imagine two of them just like Steve with super strength and everything."

 

"Hey!" Steve objected.  "Benji takes after the pair of us."

 

"Benji takes after Natasha," Darcy clarified.  "He's way calmer and more level headed than Steve and me combined.  If these kids take after me and Steve completely, we're all so very screwed."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!


	3. Coffeeshop Not AU?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lovebuckybarnes at tumblr/Karissakuro on AO3 gave me a coffee shop prompt. IT was awesome. but when I was writing today, I couldn't remember anything other than "COFFEE SHOP" from the prompt. So I didn't fill her prompt, but I hope she enjoys this anyway? (SORRY!)

Steve had never had cause to be jealous of an extra super large mocha flavored espresso-chino with extra whipped cream, caramel sauce and cinnamon sugar before in his life.  Who was jealous of a beverage that contained approximately 1,800 calories and probably had enough sugar and caffeine to put down a small child?  And why should he be jealous of the thing?

 

He made it after all.

 

It was practically his coffee child.  Would a coffee parent be jealous of a coffee child?

 

The short, buxom brunette who was avidly licking all around the domed lid barely containing all of the whipped cream that Steve had squirted on top of it let out a strangled moan of pleasure and Steve adjusted his apron and got even more jealous of the damned coffee.

 

This was definitely something he was adding to the list.  He'd been keeping a list of things to tell Bucky about when he got out of his self-induced return to cryo-freeze.  So far the highlights of the list included.

 

  1.  Breaking Team Cap out of the Raft with Natasha, T'Challa and some rambly guy named Luis, a semi-cool guy (who screamed like a girl when he met Steve) named Dave, and an absolute nutcase named Kurt.  



 

  1.  Breaking ground on a Secret Avengers Base in the side of a stinking mountain in the Appalachia.  They were essentially hollowing out the damned thing, and building a small commune inside.  



 

  1.  That thing in Kansas where he punched out Donald Trump by accident...or totally on purpose.  Whichever.



 

  1.  Spectacularly getting dumped by Sharon.  If you could call it that.  He had gone to give her a reunion hug a few weeks after their first kiss only to have Sharon hold up both hands and hastily explain that she had made a mistake and it was just strange to have crushed on him and kissed him.   _And_ that she had started a very satisfying friends with benefits situation with the aforementioned semi-cool guy Dave.



 

  1.  This current undercover gig that Natasha had sent him on.  Which had involved him letting a shadowy beard grace his face, dying his hair a little darker and working in the only Starbucks in a small town in Maryland.  He was supposed to find some guy named Lewis who knew were Thor and Foster were.  Apparently, an old friend of the mark frequented the Starbucks and Natasha was hoping Steve's super ears could pick up on some hot gossip.  They needed Doctor Jane Foster to finish up the stasis portals protecting their mountainous cave dwelling.



 

And now, high up on the list, would be the fact that the girl who always ordered coffee under the name of _Lizzie Bennett_ had just managed to get his All American flag pole standing at full attention just by drinking a damned coffee.  

 

Steve sighed a little as the mysterious Lizzie Bennett, who came to the shop everyday for the same, ridiculous coffee drink, plus an extra trenti iced coffee with a laughably small amount of cream and room for splenda (because she was counting calories, apparently, although Steve would rather her not, because she was _perfect_ ), continued to torture him into a state of near mind-numbing arousal as she finished licking the excess whipped cream off of the lid to her drink and instead put bright red, pouting lips around the green straw, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked at her confection.  Her eyelids fluttered over bright blue eyes that were slightly hidden behind black rimmed glasses and she let out another moan.

  


She stopped sucking on the straw and plucked at the end of the lipstick stained lucky piece of plastic, pulling out another dollop of whipped cream.

 

Steve stared openly in the otherwise empty shop as she brought the whipped cream covered straw up, higher than necessary, and it looked like some of the bastard whipped dairy product and a drizzle of caramel sauce was about to drop and land right on the holy land of the young lady's bosom.  A bosom that Steve could see, despite the heavy, oversized cable sweater that dwarfed her frame.  

 

He bit his bottom lip and stared with hooded eyes as the whipped cream nearly fell onto the peekaboo line of cleavage playing in the buttons of her ill-fitting shirt she had on underneath the sweater.  

 

Steve would have given up the shield again to have the sweet stickiness drop just so he could lick it all off.

  


"Darcy!  Come along!" an older man that Steve vaguely recognized put his head into the coffee shop and glared at Lizzie Bennett.  "We have a timetable to keep up!"

 

"But---I'm not," she wrinkled her nose adorably and stole a glance at Steve, whose nametag said Clark K. (Clint's idea of a hilarious joke).  She sighed and shrugged, "I’m not finished yet."

 

_That little minx._

 

She was making time with that coffee on purpose, with the express purpose of torturing him into a blissfully aroused state.  Steve could have sworn he fell a little in love with her on the spot.

 

"Lewis, get out here right now!" the older man said with all the sternness of an angry grandpa and Steve realized who the man was immediately.

 

He'd seen the look before.  Erik Selvig had shot it at Clint after all was said and done with the Chitauri invasion of 2012.  Clint had been a little distraught when he realized that Phil Coulson had died (and thankfully, Steve learned a few months ago that Coulson was not quite as dead as everyone had been led to believe).  Erik Selvig had looked at him sternly and told him not to place the blame on himself.

 

And now he was looking at the gorgeous looker making love to the milkshake coffee that Steve had just made for her.  She was the friend of Thor and Jane.  Natasha had to have known as much.  She sent him here, undercover in a Starbucks, on purpose.

 

Even when she was pining about a re-frozen Bucky Barnes, Natasha still had time to matchmake, after all.  Steve sighed and closed his eyes for a second to both marvel and despair over the fact that the woman he’d been lusting over for the last few days was someone connected to the inner circle of superheroes.  One, there would be no need for a security clearance if he dared to make a move.  But on the flip side, she would know that the coffee barista who had been adjusting his apron around a noticeable arousal all week had been Captain America.  

 

It would be worth it though.  

 

He’d promised himself he was through with waiting to live life to its fullest. And any dame who could do what Lizzie Bennett or Darcy Lewis had done to that coffee drink damn sure knew a thing or two about living life.   When he finally opened his eyes, Darcy Lewis was gone, the door slamming shut behind her as Erik Selvig pulled her along to a big RV camper.

 

“Mavis!” he yelled out.

 

“SHUT IT CLARK! I GOT ONE AND A HALF MORE MINUTES ON MY BREAK!” Mavis, Steve’s seventy-two year old coworker yelled out from the bathroom.

 

“I QUIT!  SORRY!” Steve called out, going to take the apron off, but thought better of it as he ran out of the coffee shop for his bike, eager to follow the woman that would not only lead him to Thor and Doctor Foster, but also he was going to do his damndest to woo her.

 

He wondered if he threw in his new barista skills, it might woo her a little faster.


	4. Flat Terrain

Based on this [post](http://darcylewisy.tumblr.com/post/150335710290/where-darcy-thinks-steve-has-a-flat-butt-and-steve) from darcylewsy from tumblr/ [abbyli ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/abbyli/works)from AO3

 

“Psstt...Steve.”

 

Scott Lang was disappointed that his very good friend, Captain America, aka Steve Rogers, aka badass dude who broke onto a high security floating submarine prison and rescued him three months ago and then spirited the whole superteam and superteam friends and family to some bit of flat wilderness in Montana, aka the guy totally ignoring Scott Lang right now at this moment, was _really_ totally ignoring him at that moment.

 

“ _Steve_.  Hey.  Steve.”

 

“He’s ignoring you, Scottie,” Dave observed.

 

“Smart man,” Kurt nodded as he and Dave continued to chop firewood.

 

Their secret Avengers base was still a little rough around the edges.  Natasha was working on getting functional heat into the hastily built cabins, while Clint and his wife were working on stealing electricity off the grid so that the increasingly cool and  short days wouldn’t affect their power when the small solar farm that doubled as a satellite blocker ran out of sunshine.  So Steve, Scott, Kurt and Dave were currently chopping firewood to make the very cold autumn nights bearable.

 

“PPPPPPPPPPPSTTTTTTTTTTTT.  STEVE,” Scott whispered as loudly as he dared.

 

“Get Luis, he always manages to get a reaction,” Dave suggested.

 

Steve stopped chopping wood and spared a tired glare Dave’s way.  The man only impishly shrugged.  Dave and the other Wombats, plus Scott were kind of like Steve’s hype men.  After Sharon had totally broken up with him three months ago, they’d sort of made it their crew’s new mission: Cheer up Captain America.  If that meant Luis talking Steve’s ear off for a few hours, then that would be what happened.

 

“Steeeeeeeeve,” Scott whined.  

 

“Lang.  WHAT?” Steve demanded.

 

“It’s Lewis.”

 

Steve tensed a little.  Darcy Lewis.  She’d been at the secret base for five weeks now, seeking asylum with her astrophysicists after the UN had made Jane Foster and Erik Selvig fugitives for running a portal experiment in London.  Foster and Selvig had gone immediately to work, figuring out how to make their location even more secure from unfriendly forces.  Darcy Lewis had taken one look at the entire operation and wrinkled her nose.  Then she had immediately set about trying to make the space more liveable.  

 

And Steve would be the first to enthusiastically admit, she was doing a great job of it.  Everyone had warm blankets and quilts before the first chill set in.  There were actual curtains on windows now.  They weren’t all using the same damn bar of soap any longer.  And the food.  They’d been eating MRE’s for two months before Darcy and company had arrived.  The day after her arrival, they’d had a feast.  Pheasants and berry pie and mashed potatoes that had made Laura Barton propose marriage to the young woman.  Within a week, they had a working farm going, more than what the Bartons had even had.

 

And she’d done it all with a smart ass remark on her lips.  Usually almost always directed at Steve or at Steve’s expense.  She was a shit stirrer, that Darcy Lewis, and Steve would be damned but it made her even more attractive.

 

“Churn that butter girl,” Dave muttered.  

 

“Hey, respect,” Steve grumbled, before taking another swing of his ax and letting all of his pent up frustration out on the poor log of wood.  

 

“Steve, she’s checking out your booty,” Scott whispered quickly, before taking his own swing of his ax in an effort to look cool, missing the setup log entirely and almost planting the ax in his foot.

 

“What?” Steve turned.

 

Darcy was on the porch, wearing  clothing that was too big for her.  She looked adorable in it, and Steve suspected that she KNEW that.  The ladies and Selvig had arrived with only the clothing on their backs.  Laura Barton had shared clothing with Jane, but Darcy had insisted on raiding others closets for clothing.  Steve’s closet was the most heavily pilfered.  That was his shirt she was wearing and it did _things_ to his inner caveman.

 

“Rogers,” Darcy smirked, churning the butter lazily.

 

“Lewis,” Steve nodded.  He could read the look on her face.  He and Darcy had built up a sort of...forward way of speaking to each other.  It felt a lot like how he would usually trade taunts with Bucky or Sam, but _different_ in a way.  Mostly because teasing with Bucky and Sam was just fun, teasing with Darcy usually led to him praying the denim in his jeans didn’t betray any obvious signs of arousal.  He took a deep breath in through his nose before throwing his own smirk back at her.  “You staring at my ass, Lewis?”

 

“What ass?” Darcy came back unnaturally fast.  “All I see is flat terrain.”

 

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” Dave called out, holding his hand to his mouth as Scott erupted into laughter and Kurt began walking in circles, shaking his head in impressed disbelief.  He shook his head.  “Sick ass burn, Darce.”

 

Steve blinked up at Darcy, his face completely neutral, hiding anything he might have been feeling at the moment.  She gave him a sickly sweet smile and a wink before getting her butter and walking back into the main cabin.  He waited ninety-seconds, while his ‘ _crew’_ continued to overreact to Darcy’s insult.  When he was sure she wasn’t coming back out, he pursed his lips in consternation and looked down at the jeans he was wearing.

 

Laura had wolf whistled at him the first day he had put them on.  Sam had given him an approving nod.

 

Clint had told him that his ass looked _fantastic_ in the jeans.  

 

“We need some ice, we need some ice,” Scott cackled, his ax swaying and in great danger of clipping his thigh.  “SICK BURN.”

 

“Yuck it up, schmucks,” Steve gave them all a glare.  

 

* * *

 

 

Darcy couldn’t help herself. He just made it so easy.  

 

The first time she caught him trying to catch a glimpse of his own ass was two hours later, his eyes shifting and trying to get a glimpse of his reflection in the window of the oven.  

 

The second had been fifteen minutes after that, when he’d taken a moment during a busy lunch, with all of the refugees in the kitchen causing a ruckus as they filled plates with biscuits and fried chicken and coleslaw.  Steve had _actually_ put his hands on his own ass when he thought no one was looking.  

 

It took everything in Darcy not to laugh when he _squeezed_ his cheeks in a measuring kind of way.  He then brought his hands in front of him and stared down at them, mentally measuring the length of his palms and fingers.  

 

“What’s the matter, big poppa?” Clint wondered.

 

“What?  Nothing,” Steve said quickly before walking out of the room.

 

The minute he had left, Darcy burst into giggles.

 

* * *

 

 

“Dude, relax, your ass if fine as hell,” Luis promised Steve as they worked on repositioning a busted solar panel.  

 

“What?” Steve blinked up at him.

 

“I caught you looking at it in one of the panels,” Luis shrugged.  “Darcy didn’t mean it, she thinks your butt is perfect. I promise.  I mean, do you have a bubble butt?  Hell no, but I mean, who does without implants these days? I mean the societal pressure on having whatever a fashion magazine sets as a desirable body is heavy, man.  Don’t worry about the bubble butt craze, it’ll die down, and then normal butts will be totally back in style.”

 

“Luis,” Steve sighed.  

 

“Yeah, Cap?” Luis wondered with an easy grin on his face.

 

Steve waited a few moments in silence before heaving a sigh.  “Does Lewis really think my butt is perfect?”

 

* * *

 

“What’s this?” Darcy wondered as she walked into the large common room.  

 

Sam arched an eyebrow at her and opened the gigantic cardboard box he had smuggled out of a factory and hauled through three states, even while losing two tails from the Secretary of State.  He pulled out what was in the box and held up the treasure with a wicked smirk aimed right at Darcy.

 

“COMFY COZIES!” Lila Barton called out in excitement.

 

“Oh no,” Darcy whispered.

 

Sam waved the track pants tauntingly at her.  They promised to be low hanging, slightly tight across the thighs, and probably, definitely perfectly tailored so they were also tight across the rear. A very specific rear.

 

Sam grinned and nodded, “Oh yes.”

  


* * *

 

“Seriously?” Natasha sighed.

 

“Oh, hey, you’re back, hey,” Steve said nonchalantly, jamming his phone into his pocket.  

 

“You were just trying to get a picture of your ass in those pants,” Natasha accused.

  
“What?  No,” Steve gave her a confused puppy look before shaking his head.  “How was your trip?”

 

“No heat for another month, chop more firewood,” Natasha advised.

 

“Fuck,” Steve cursed and ran his hand over his face in exasperation.  

 

They wouldn’t freeze.  Well, not all of them.  The Bartons had enough blankets and Barton had cracked that they could always pull a Walton and snuggle down together at nights.  Scott and the Wombats were already doing that.  Wanda and Sam...well, he didn’t like thinking about how Wanda and Sam stayed warm at night.  And personally, Steve would be fine.  He was a human furnace and the cold had little to no effect on him.  He was worried about Darcy, Jane and Selvig, though.  Probably Darcy more than anything.  Jane had some special sort of bracelet she slept with that Thor had given her.  Kept her warm and happy and connected to him vaguely.  Selvig kept himself warm with a nightly shot of some kind of Asgardian liquor.  

 

Darcy was tiny and small and she was probably cold at night in that bed of hers.  

 

“Also, this,” Natasha tossed him a small leather bound notebook, black with a red star on the cover.  “Pierce’s trigger words for Barnes.”

 

“Holy shit,” Steve whispered, blinking in disbelief.  

 

“One step closer,” Natasha gave a small smile, the kind of smile that seemed like a secret.  

 

Steve definitely could read that it was a secret.  Bucky had given him a similar smile when Steve had told him that Natasha was working on unearthing all the old triggers.  

 

“We’re not going to have enough firewood to last another month,” Steve admitted after a little while.  

 

“Body heat works,” Natasha smirked.  She reached a hand out to Steve’s shoulder and spun him around before whipping out her phone and snapping a picture of his ass.  

 

“What are you doing?” Steve demanded.

 

“Getting you a snuggle buddy for the next month of no heat,” Natasha smirked, easily evading his grasp when he went for her phone.  The picture message sent and Natasha’s phone dinged in response.  She held it up for Steve to look at, her eyes fairly dancing with laughter.

 

**_OH GOD NAT WHY?  I AM NOT READY FOR THAT JELLY!  IT’S NOT EVEN 8 AM YET. I WANT TWO SCOOPS OF THOSE CAP BOOTY FLAKES FOR BREAKFAST…yumyum._ **

 

“We clear?” Natasha smiled.  “She was teasing you.  It’s a thing people that were born in the late 80’s and early 90’s do.  They tease the people they like in a non-bullying kind of way.”

 

The phone dinged again and Steve laughed.

 

**_HELP ME BURN HIS NEW PANTS.  I CAN’T DEAL WITH THAT ASS STARING ME IN THE FACE ALL DAY.  I WANT TO SMACK IT.  AND THEN BITE IT THEN SMACK IT AGAIN.  FUCK ME._ **

 

Steve grinned and nodded, before taking out his own phone and composing a short message and quickly hitting send.  

 

**_There might not be enough for you to bite, Lewis.  Flatter than a pancake, this ass._ **

 

Natasha laughed as her phone began to vibrate and make an excessive amount of noise.  She shook her head and began to walk away, answering the phone when it began ringing.

 

**“YOU LET HIM READ THE MESSAGE???? WHAT THE HELL NATASHA?!?”**

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	5. Asthma Attack from Glipaccswor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains description of an asthma attack that closely mirrors a panic attack. If this is not healthy for you, skip this chapter. : )
> 
> Again, the amazing darcylewisy[ darcylewisy](http://darcylewisy.tumblr.com/) aka [abbyli ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/abbyli/works)from AO3 gave me this prompt:
> 
> Can I prompt you a drabble? Steve has an asthma attack. He hasn't had one in 70 years and it advances into a panic attack. Darcy's little sister had asthma as a child so she knows exactly what to do and cuteness follows.
> 
> I went a little nuts and still can't write anything under 2000 words.

 

Finding a proper security detail for Thor's amazing lady was a royal pain in the ass.

 

Doctor Jane Foster was notoriously hard to defend.  When Steve had told Thor as much at their last meeting, claiming that none of the normal security details had volunteered to go on Foster's latest science expedition in the deserts of the Sahara, Thor had responded evenly with,

 

"Due to SHIELD, my Lady and my Sister-in-arms have had to defend themselves far too often to allow such simpletons to be able to watch them so easily.  Your forces are showing their cowardice, Captain."

 

Steve didn't think it was so much cowardice as self-preservation.  Before SHIELD fell, many a low numbered agent had come back bruised, battered and unable to talk about what had happened after a jaunt with Doctor Jane Foster (Thor's lady) and her assistant Darcy Lewis (Thor's sister-in-arms, a term he did not throw around lightly.  Natasha was the only other Midgardian woman to have claimed the title).  

 

Sharon Carter had been sent back in time during one of the security stints.  She had missed less than five minutes in 2016, but had apparently been back in time long enough to have fallen in love with a young Lieutenant Chester Phillips, spending six blissful months with him before being zapped back in time.

 

She didn't talk about it much, but Steve noticed that she hadn't really endeavored to spend much time with him after that.  Later, Natasha had reported that in Sharon's initial desperation to get back to the future, she had tracked down a little Steve Rogers and could not honestly date a man she had seen in knee pants, crying and wheezing on a street corner at the age of three.

 

"You look terrified."

 

Steve looked up to see Thor's sister-in-arms staring at him in appraisal.

 

"Fear is good," Darcy nodded at him.  "I'm glad you're not being all macho about this like, you know, that wimp you sent us last time."

 

"Sam's not really a wimp," Steve said diplomatically.

  
  


"He nearly wet himself!" Darcy disputed with a genuine peal of laughter.

 

" _ Nearly  _ isn't quite wetting himself," Steve gave a small shrug as his lips twisted upwards into a teasing kind of smirk.

 

"Admit it, he peed a little."

 

Steve surveyed the short, curvy woman who was looking up at him with an immeasurable amount of mischief and mirth.  He'd met Darcy once before, when SHIELD had failed her yet again after the attack on London years ago.  She'd nearly boxed him on his ears when he worried that she was in need of a medic when her hands had shook so badly with adrenaline that she couldn't even get a cup of water to her lips without spilling it.  

  
  


"Yes, when staring down at a suddenly transported slime antler beast with incredibly bad breath, Sam admitted that he did, actually, wet himself a little," Steve chuckled.  It had taken Natasha getting Sam stone cold drunk for the man to admit it, but the admission had been worth it.  And Sam had officially withdrawn his hat from the security detail of one Foster and Lewis team up.

 

That was why Steve was here.  Clint wasn’t allowed to do security detail alone with Foster and Lewis.  Natasha was busy.  No one else would lead the team of half a dozen former SHIELD agents in protecting Jane and Darcy.  Steve was the only person who hadn’t already had the pleasure of doing so.  And he really wanted to prove to Thor that it  _ could _ be done.  Steve could protect them without mishap.

 

"Bilgesnipes aren't so bad, you can't wear cologne around them, and that was Wilson's mistake," Darcy nodded.  "If your pal, Sam wasn't so keen on smelling so good around, ah, single girls with nice racks, well then, he wouldn't have had that bilgesnipe trying to hump his leg."

 

"Who told you---" Steve stopped himself and rolled his eyes fondly.  "Natasha."

 

Natasha, Darcy and Jane had a unique sort of bond.  They were introduced through Thor, and had claimed that they were all in-laws due to Thor's fondness of referring to his close friends as his siblings.  Natasha was trusted above all Avengers (she loved lording it over Steve that she was trusted more than good ole Captain America).  

 

When they couldn't get volunteers to watch Jane and Darcy on their science field trips, Natasha was always the backup.  But she was kind of busy in the heart of an undercover op in Germany, trying to pry an old leather bound notebook out of the unyielding grasp of the past in order to bring Bucky out of cryofreeze faster.

 

"You wearing cologne?" Darcy wondered, leaning in a little and taking an indulgent sniff.  She blushed a little.  She didn't smell the overwhelming cloying nature of cologne, but she did get a whiff of clean linen fabric softener and ivory soap, two scents that did particular things for her when coming off of a man who usually would have half of Steve's looks and none of his other awesomeness.

 

"Can't---well, couldn't," Steve shrugged.  "When I was younger, I had asthma, terrible asthma.  Couldn't wear it without wheezing.  Even Buck didn't for my lungs' sake."

 

Steve paused for a moment, marveling at the fact he had just easily spoken of Bucky, without wincing or being thrown into a sudden depression.  He looked down at Darcy in a state of wonder and she could only smile back up at him, soft and encouraging.  

 

"Even when he had to wear it for a big date, usually those were MORE than one dame at a time," Steve chuckled in remembrance of Bucky's attempts at casanova grandeur in his youth.  "He'd hose himself down before coming back to the apartment.  Once he jumped into a fountain at a park..."

 

"Sounds like a pretty awesome friend," Darcy nodded knowingly.  "Once I let myself get taken by a band of vagabond space pirates so that Jane could get proper readings."

 

Steve's eyes widened in concern.  "You what?"

 

"She needed the readings and they were in her way," Darcy pursed her lips.  "And she rescued me pretty quickly.  You know, before they could make me walk the space plank."

 

Steve could only let out a small huff of a chuckle as Darcy preened in front of him, clearly proud of her dangerous and reckless adventures.  

 

"Just how much living have you done in the last seven years, Darcy Lewis?" Steve wondered.  

 

"Enough to never run out of conversation," Darcy shrugged.  And it had only taken her four years to drive all of the other security details crazy until Steve had no choice but to step up to the plate.  Not that she had been plotting for that to happen.  Probably only a little.

 

A humming noise began emitting from the back of the van that Darcy and Jane had driven in, with Steve crammed in the back amongst machines and wires.  "Janie!  I told you, give it five minutes!"

 

Steve was about to ask what exactly he had volunteered for, but Darcy had darted back to the van, quick as she could to stop her boss from doing whatever it was she was doing.

 

He got his answer soon enough though.

 

A bright blue portal opened up, pretty as anything Steve had ever seen.  The lights were shimmering and multifaceted, looking like suspended jewels coming down in a brilliant curtain of light from the heavens above.  Steve was so fascinated with the color of it, comparing it a little to the color of Darcy's eyes.  Blue and green and bright and beautiful.

 

He didn't notice the light encroaching on his personal space, and didn't realize it had touched his foot until it was too late.

 

He gasped for breath all of a sudden, a feeling settling over his chest that hadn't been there in over seventy years.  There was a pressure on his chest, as if all of the Howling Commandos were suddenly sitting on top of it and his lungs felt cloudy and starved.  His muscles began to tense immediately and he could feel the mucus clogging his throat.

 

He took in a gasping, rattling draw of air and the struggle to pull in a full breath caused him to panic.  

 

After not having it happen for so many years, Steve Rogers was having an asthma attack.  

 

He kept taking in rapid, shallow breaths, causing his panic to exacerbate as the wheezing began.  His body jackknifed and he put his hands on his thighs as he struggled with coming to terms with what was happening.  He was supposed to be fixed. This kind of thing wasn't supposed to happen to him anymore.  

 

"Steve!"

 

He felt something soft being pressed to his mouth, and a small, soft hand run down his back. He kept struggling to breathe through the downy material that was being held over his nose and mouth.  But it was keeping whatever kept the irritants that had brought on the attack out of his lungs, so at least it wasn't getting any worse now.  In his haze he heard Darcy yelling something at Jane, before the soft touch returned, urging him to stand upright.

 

"Look at me, can you breath with me?" Darcy asked.

 

They were both illuminated in the blue light now.  Darcy's skin was glittering with it, it was more than light, it was a fog, thick and heavy, and the condensation was against her skin.  Her bare skin.

 

He looked down to see what he was holding over his mouth and realized it was her shirt.  She stood before him in just her bra and a pair of short denim cutoffs, and he struggled to bring in a gasp of air.

 

"Okay, okay, you're alright," Darcy promised him.  She didn't think he had an inhaler on him, seeing as he wasn't supposed to have asthma anymore.  She winced as she felt the cool droplets of the fog condense against her skin.  That would be bad for later, but much like everything in her life, that could also be worried about when the time came.  While it was happening.

 

She popped herself on the sandy ground, her hand reaching for his and tugging.  He stumbled to his knees and she manhandled him so that she was the big spoon, her arms wrapped tightly around him as they lay there.

 

"Feel me breathe?" Darcy whispered in his ear.

 

Steve choked out what he thought might sound like a yes.  He could definitely feel her breathe.  She was clad only in a pair of tiny denim cutoffs and a ridiculously red bra and he could feel her perfect breasts (he'd smacked Sam upside the head when he had accused Darcy's bounty of being artificial.  Tt felt good to be right) against his back as she breathed slowly and deliberately.

 

"Like me, Steve, in through your nose, one, two, three, four," Darcy said in such a soothing voice that Steve swore she must be an angel in that moment.  "And out...one two three four five six..."

 

She continued to breathe with him and count out the breaths even as her hands started to move on his body, roaming and pressing on the front parts of his inner shoulders, the outer edges of the creases of his elbows, and right over his rapidly beating heart.  He could feel his muscles relaxing with every prolonged press of her hand. They stayed there like that for what felt like hours, just laying there in the brilliantly colored blue fog, breathing as Darcy continued to press against specific spots on his body.

 

Eventually, Steve felt the panic subside, just in time, of course, for the blue fog to recede, leaving them sitting there on the desert floor.  

 

The effect was immediate, and Steve took in an obstruction free breath, his lungs filling in the same way they had when he had first gotten out of that VitaRay machine.  

 

He let his hand go over top of Darcy's, surprised to feel that it was wet.  He squeezed and whispered,

 

"Thank you so much, Darcy."

 

"I--I uh, I had a---a little sister, in foster care, she had really b-bad asthma and never, you know, never remembered her inhaler," Darcy sounded punch drunk, fumbling over her words as her arms tightened around him, her body molding to his.

 

"Oh cool, you guys are good," Jane nodded.  "Sorry, Steve.  I had no idea you'd have an asthma attack being exposed to the atmosphere of Glipaccswor."

  
  


"S'okay," Steve mumbled, knowing he should get up, but not wanting to break this sudden physical connection with Darcy.  

 

"How long?" Darcy mumbled.

 

"Oh...just, way, way, way too long," Jane wrinkled her nose.  "Uhm, I had some of Steve's lackeys set up the tent while you guys were...breathing."

 

"What? I'm okay now," Steve promised, gently breaking Darcy's hold.

 

She whimpered out at the loss of contact and Steve sat up and turned to look at her.   Her hand had been wet because Darcy had broken out into a sweat.  Her skin was flushed all over and she looked absolutely wrecked.

 

"What happened?"

 

"Glipaccswor happened," Jane bit at her bottom lip anxiously.  She pointed down at Steve with authority that had made  _ other _ SHIELD agents wet their pants.  "You like Darcy, right?  Thor had a theory and I was watching on the flight over and at dinner last night.  You like---you really like her, right?"

 

Steve felt that this was not the time to play coy.  

 

"Yes, I've liked her since  I met her. Might like to take her out for dinner when all of this is over."

 

Darcy made a whimpering noise.

 

"Okay, take her to the tent and ravish her proper, then," Jane nodded.  "Dinner can happen later.  According to my calculations, like, three days from now."

 

"Excuse me?" Steve blinked up at the Nobel Prize winning astrophysicist. He closed his eyes when Darcy's hand went to the small of his back and pressed there.

 

"Glipaccswor.  We were studying the atmosphere for our friend, Betty Ross, who was interested in the fact that the atmosphere supposedly works as an aphrodisiac for females of any species.  It increases their desire to---MATE and if they don't do...the do...then they kind of spontaneously combust," Jane said very, very quickly.  "If you don't bone my friend right now, for as long as it takes to get it out of her system, I am going to turn my portal back on right now and let you suffocate.  Don't test me, Rogers, I'll do it. GO.  NOW.  Knock her socks off."

 

Somewhere in Wakanda, in the deep, comfortable cryofreeze, Bucky Barnes was probably internally laughing his head off.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know what you're going to ask in the comments.
> 
> Go ahead. Ask it if you want. I don't want to take away your joy.


	6. Neato.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one asked for this prompt. I was inspired by a tumblr post and socked it away in the future file. And I wanted to write something different tonight so here we are. Bucky and Sam shenanigans revolving around Steve and Darcy's first date aftermath.

“Well well well, look who is doing the walk of shame.”

 

Steve furrowed his brow at Sam’s very loud announcement as he walked into the gym.  He didn’t quite understand that and shared a look with Bucky, who was standing next to Sam’s weight bench.  He had been _heckling_ Sam as the man attempted to max out his bench press when Steve had walked in.  And he may have had a pinky on the left side of the bar, keeping Sam from reaching his goals.

 

But Bucky didn’t understand the phrase out of Parakeet Pant’s mouth either.  But a lifetime of being cool gave Bucky the good sense not to look perplexed.  Instead he plastered on that smirk that they had dug out of the recesses of his brain in Wakanda and nodded at Steve knowingly.

 

“I’m not---ashamed?” Steve shrugged his shoulders, dumping his gym bag on the bench and digging through it for his workout clothing.

 

“Berky over here said the reason you didn’t come down to the gym with him is because you didn’t come home last night,” Sam explained with a roll of his eyes as he got up from the bench.

 

Bucky simply started stacking his own weights on the bar, nearly tripling Sam’s maximum effort for his own warm up.  He had purposely kept Sam in the dark about the particulars about Steve’s date.  It had been with Pepper Potts’ right hand gal, one buxom and beautiful Darcy Lewis.  Steve was madly in love with her, had been for years now.  

 

And Bucky had strong armed the fool into finally asking her out.  And he’d spent the night with her on the first try.  

 

Something clicked in Bucky’s head and he suddenly understood Parakeet Pant’s sang.   _Walk of shame_.  He turned and scowled fiercely at Sam.  Darcy Lewis was an angel sent from heaven above to walk among the mortals.  She always made him a special batch of cookies with the walnuts in them and milk chocolate chips instead of semi-sweet.  She could burp the alphabet in seven different languages.  And Natalia highly approved of the little gal, and if Natalia approved, Bucky could do no less.  

 

“You got a real problem, jackass,” Bucky grumbled.  “He’s got nothin’ to be ashamed of.  He should be proud he got to spend a night with that dame.  She stole me fancy grease from Stark’s workshop for my arm.”

 

“What?” Sam shook his head in annoyed confusion.  “I don’t speak old geezer, can you try that again?”

 

“And it’s not like you’ve been pulling any ripe tomatoes lately,” Bucky continued on unfazed, sneering at Sam condescendingly.  “Not since that clever little PI, Miss Knight, turned you down cold.”

 

“Rude!” Sam held up his middle finger.  “And who was this piece of strange Steve got his hands on anyway?”

 

“Hey!” Steve called out loudly before his two best friends could devolve into their usual pattern of endless bickering.  He’d suggested to them separately that they stop spending time together and he had gotten them same response from both of them.  Shocked indignation and a declaration about how Steve just didn’t understand _their dynamic_ .    “I know what _piece of strange_ means, Sam.  And nothing like that happened.”

 

“You’re in the same clothing you were in yesterday at lunchtime,” Sam remarked gesturing to Steve’s rumpled red henley and perfectly fitted dark denim jeans.  

 

“And you were gone all night, Stevie,” Bucky reminded him.

 

“We talked,” Steve sighed happily.  

 

Sam and Bucky looked at him dubiously, nearly identical in their suspicious expressions.

 

“And we _kissed._  A lot,” Steve’s mouth turned upwards in a small secret smile.  

 

“Mmmmhmmm,” Sam hummed, the sarcasm ringing throughout the sound.

 

“And we fell asleep on her couch,” Steve shrugged.  “It was our first date and it was perfect, and I’m not about to try and ruin the chance with the woman of my dreams by jumping into bed with her right after the first date.”

 

Steve flung his gym shirt over his shoulder and nodded at them both before giving Sam a stern look.

 

“And I plan on marrying this woman someday, so if you keep referring to her as a piece of strange, I’m gonna tweet the pictures of you from Halloween,” Steve warned before stalking off.  “You and I both know that your mother taught you better than that, Sam.”

 

Bucky was watching Steve with suspicion and once Sam had gotten over his dressing down, he caught the calculating look in Bucky’s eye.  He may be extra fond of rubbing Bork-Bork’s face in looking so dumb, usually, this time he had to concede that Bucky knew---or suspected something that he didn’t.  It helped that Bunky had actually known Steve when he had been dating back in the stone age.  Sam had never seen Steve with a lady before, so he didn’t know how to read him.

 

“What do you know?” Sam demanded.

 

“That you’re a jackass?” Bucky offered in exaggerated mock helpfulness.

 

“You don’t know nothing,” Sam rolled his eyes again and turned to get back to the weight lifting.  

 

Barfy held up one finger and shook his head, a slow, sinful sort of smile spreading across his face.  

 

“They definitely fooled around,” Bucky confirmed.  “I can tell.”

 

“Creepy,” Sam nodded slowly, his nose wrinkling at Buffy’s awful newly revealed super power of knowing if Steve got to get a little something something.  “He’s gonna mess it up, you know that right?  I mean, it took him two years to kiss Sharon and then he didn’t call her for eight months, so that kind of---was not cool.”

 

“So we make sure he doesn’t wait too long,” Bucky shrugged.  “I’ll get on him to---”

 

“Barky, that’s the first good idea you’ve had in like, at least three quarters of a century,” Sam nodded, rushing towards Steve’s abandoned bag and digging into the front pocket that Steve always left his cellphone in during their morning workouts.

 

Bucky furrowed his brow at this turn in events but shrugged and offered, “His passcode is---”

 

“I know his passcode Barfy,” Sam glared at him.  “Oh--hey, he’s got a text from---oooowhoowho, Stevie boy, he named her  _sweetheart_ already.”

 

“Punk,” Bucky chuckled and shook his head in amusement as he walked forward to look over Sam’s shoulder at the phone.  The screen had a few texts back and forth but the last one was of interest.  

 

_Have fun at the gym with your boys, cutiepie.   XXOO <3 _

 

“She’s good,” Sam nodded.  “No clinginess, no asking for a response.  If she’s cute, she might be a keeper.”

 

“You’re so superficial,” Bucky glared at Sam.  Besides, Darcy Lewis was cute as a button.  He couldn’t _wait_ till Steve brought her round so that he and Natalia could tease the dickens out of him by flirting with her.  

 

“So how far did he get with her?” Sam muttered, not actually asking Burpy, but definitely, inadvertently asking Blucky.

 

“Second base,” Bucky muttered, thinking about what he knew about both Steve and Darcy.  “Definitely second base.”

 

“Cool,” Sam nodded, beginning to type something out and deleting it immediately.  He did that for thirty full seconds and it didn’t take that much longer for Steve to get into his workout gear.  

 

Bucky grabbed the phone and finished what Sam had begun typing again before hitting send.

 

“DUDE!” Sam’s voice was a high pitched squeal, sounding very scared indeed.  He grabbed the phone back and looked down.  “ _Thanks for showing me your boobs last night. They were neato.”_

 

Bucky shrugged and gave Sam a half smile.

 

“Seriously?!?” Sam demanded.  

 

“What?” Bucky looked confused.  “Believe me, this dame’s boobs are neato.”

 

The phone buzzed back almost immediately, and then again right away.  They shouldn’t have looked down.  They really shouldn’t have.  But human nature, curiosity and the absurdly egotistical surety that they were doing the right thing got the best of them.  

 

The first buzz had been a picture.  Of some really _fantastic_ cleavage.  

 

The second had been a text.

 

“ _Yeah, dude.  I know you like them, that was clear when you spent half an hour with your face buried in them while we banged on the kitchen counter_ ,” Sam read in a whisper, his eyes widening in shock with every word.  

 

The phone buzzed a third time and Bucky read aloud, “ _When you’re done playing with your friends, I have a surprise for you. It involves those neato boobs and a can of whipped cream_?  Oh Darcy, doll, no!”

 

“DARCY?!?” Sam hissed.  “Darcy Lewis?”

  
“Yeah, Steve finally asked her out,” Bucky nodded.  “It apparently went really, really well.”

 

“Dude, Barton says Darcy’s been in love with Steve for _years_ ,” Sam revealed.

 

“Huh. Convenient,” Bucky smiled genuinely.  “So, he’s gonna murder us when he sees what we’ve done.”

 

“You run east, I’ll run west,” Sam nodded.  “Hopefully the lure of Lewis’ excellent gifts from god will distract him from hunting us down.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Borky and Sam.


	7. White Feather

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a drabble written after seeing nemhaine42's amazing art of Darcy Lewis, in a lovely wedding dress, looking like she has cold feet.  
> Based off of this[ post ](https://nemhaine42.tumblr.com/post/160811937844/glynnisi-bjorkshirepudding-nemhaine42-done)
> 
> 2000 plus words later....

 

 

**White Feather**

* * *

 

"You can do this."

 

Darcy might have said the words to herself, but they did nothing to calm the mad, fast thrumming of her pulse in her throat.  Her trembling hands gripped the bouquet of white and red roses tightly, so much so that her knuckles had gone completely white.

 

"You can do this, Darcy."

 

No matter how many times she repeated it, it did no good.  Now besides the pulse that seemed to be auditioning for Metallica's new drummer, she could add a queasy stomach to that too.  That was bad news.  It had been happening to her more and more often in the last month.  Whenever she thought about her upcoming nuptials, she'd usually have to haul ass to the nearest ladies' room and spew whatever delicious thing she had scarfed down for breakfast. 

 

Darcy's nana always said that when she was about to do something fearful reckless and idiotic as a child, she'd usually had to upchuck into the bushes.  Apparently her impulse control was rampant nausea. 

 

"You have to do this, idiot."

 

Darcy didn't believe herself any more than anyone else would and she let out a long, shaky breath as she tried to calm her stomach down.  Her head hit the door that separated her from the rest of the little chapel that had been hastily acquired a month ago when everything had started to go a little crazy.

 

One month ago, Darcy could have never imagined walking down the aisle and getting married.  She couldn't imagine finding the dress of her dreams, something straight out of the roaring twenties, with all the delicate lacework and the flattering lines.  She hadn't imagined the veil, and the church and the bridesmaid's dresses.  She still couldn't imagine it.  Which was why the organist that had been playing Pachelbel’s Canon in D on repeat for the last fifteen minutes had started to verbally harass her from outside. 

 

Honestly, having a ninety-thousand year old little blue haired lady yelling 'Get your keister in gear, Missy!' wasn't getting her out of her safe room any faster.

 

"Darcy," a soft murmur could be heard as the very LOCKED door opened a crack.  "Are you alright?"

 

"NO, no, I'm not alright, this is---this is STUPID," Darcy answered.  "Natasha, what was I thinking?  I can't do this!  I can't---Oh God, I can't!"

 

"Darcy, I have someone here who wants to speak with you before you go out, is that alright?" Natasha wondered, although something in her voice said it wasn't a question.

 

"BACK OFF PIANO BITCH!" Jane Foster shouted at the organist before stomping towards the door to Darcy's little room.  "Uhm---the minister just said that the church will be needed for fancy purse bingo."

 

"I love fancy purse bingo," Natasha said calmly. 

 

"Me too!" Jane said excitedly.  "I saw them unloading the goods out front, and I saw a Dooney and Bourke that I really actually kind of need."

 

"YOU ARE THE FUTURE QUEEN OF ASGARD!" Darcy yelled.  "YOU ARE ABOVE SUCH TRIFLING THINGS AS DOONEY AND BOURKE PURSES!"

 

"Woah, dude.  DUDE," Jane scolded.  "I'd like to remind you that I DIDN'T want to be here, because this is a HUGE mistake. Remember?!"

 

Darcy gagged and vainly attempted to keep the bagel that Natasha had crammed down her throat that morning, DOWN.  She succeeded, but was now in a clammy cold sweat as she stared up at the ceiling.  Jane was right, of course.  This was a huge mistake.

 

"Darcy, I sent Jane away," Natasha's soft murmur came back. 

 

"I hope that's spy code for I made her walk across a football field of Legos," Darcy muttered. 

 

"I still have someone who'd like to speak with you," Natasha announced.  "It might make this whole thing easier."

 

"Fine--fine, okay," Darcy agreed blindly.  Anything was better than feeling like she was making the biggest mistake of her life.

 

"Darcy?" the deep voice made the wood of the door shake a little, even though her name had been a small, hopeful whisper.  "Sweetheart?"

 

"Oh God," Darcy whimpered and gagged again, rushing from the door to go towards the little en suite.  She was happy to have a short dress, because it made it that much easier to kneel in front of the porcelain god and bid adieu to her poor, sad bagel.

 

"Oh, sweetheart," Steve breathed out, closing the door behind him before rushing to her, moving her veil carefully out of the way, along with any curly bits of hair that were in danger of death via regurgitated bagel.  "Feeling like this is wrong?"

 

"Don't say it," Darcy whimpered.  "I don't need this right now."

 

"Well too bad," Steve gave her a sad smile.  "Got cold feet?"

 

"Maybe a little," Darcy muttered miserably.

 

"Want to wave the white flag?" Steve asked hopefully.

 

"I can't," Darcy whispered, glad that she couldn't see Steve's face after she had said it. 

 

"You look beautiful," Steve's voice could be barely heard, it was a small, hopeful thing, filled with awe and wonder.

 

"You're not meant to see me in this," Darcy sniffled.

 

"Well, I think that's only true if I were the groom here," Steve reminded her.  "And I'm not, am I?"

 

"Nope," Darcy laid her cheek against the cool porcelain of the toilet.  "Captain America doesn't need a wife to stay in America.  You get a free citizenship card plus a few extras cause of carrying the shield."

 

"That's not really how it works," Steve chuckled, rubbing up and down her back.  "I'm sorry we fought when you brought this up."

 

"I'm just---sorry," Darcy sighed.

 

"But my complaint still stands," Steve's declaration was soft but decisive.  "Don't do this, Darce.  Don't marry him."

 

"He'll be deported!" Darcy reminded Steve.  "He saved my life in London, I OWE him one stay in America free card.  And besides---it's just---it's pretend.  Ian doesn't love me and I don't love him, because I---I love YOU."

 

"Sweetheart," Steve turned her gently to face him, putting his hands on either side of her face.  "I love you too, and this has been the worst month of my life.  I can't---function without you, Darce.  Bucky hogtied me and threw me in the shower and then let Sam fly me here in a damned baby carrier, strapped to his chest."

 

Darcy snorted and her body fairly melted in Steve's arms.  It had been a comfort she had been sorely missing for one whole month.  She'd gotten so spoiled during their on again off again on again courtship of the past three years (the on again off again part of it was more directly related to small breakups for safety's sake when Hydra fell and when the Accords happened, not due to them not getting on(and getting it on, constantly)). 

 

They had been very serious, with Darcy spending all of her time at Steve's place.  Darcy had been more or less patiently waiting for Steve to propose to her when Ian had shown up and told her he needed her to marry him in order to stay in the country. 

 

Steve had hated the idea, and their last big fight happened then, before Darcy stormed out.  She had spent the next few nights screaming at Natasha and Jane that she might as well get fake married since no one else would ever really want her.

 

"I was gonna ask you."

 

Darcy sat up straight, pulling away from Steve's embrace and eyeing him warily.

 

"I had---I have a ring," Steve said softly, sounding a little hopeful.

 

"What?" Darcy breathed out.

 

"I was so sore that this British---asshole came and stole my thunder," Steve admitted sullenly.  "Was gonna ask you on the anniversary of our first date.  I was just---waiting on that."

 

"Steve!  That's six months from now!" Darcy scolded. 

 

"Well I was gonna ask you last year, but then you had that space emergency and I had to put it on hold," Steve defended himself.  "And the year before that I had the call to assemble."

 

"STEVE," Darcy uttered out of gritted teeth.  "You've been wanting to ask me to marry you for over two years."

 

"I've been wanting to marry you since the moment I laid eyes on you, Darcy Lewis."

 

For the first time in a month, Darcy took a deep breath and her stomach didn't revolt as she stared at those earnest blue eyes staring back at her, holding the promise to love and cherish her until the end of their days together.

 

"Okay," she gave a small, dazed nod.

 

"Okay?" Steve repeated, his mouth open and gaping.  "Okay?!"

 

"I want that," Darcy said slow and easy, an easy grin spreading across her lips.

 

"Can we do it now?" Steve wondered hopefully, hopping to his feet, and pulling her up gently.

 

"I'm not marrying you in some cheap quickie wedding!" Darcy insisted.  She pulled on his shoulders until he met her lips, pulling back quickly and wincing, "Sorry, I was sick."

 

"Do you think I give one small damn about that?" Steve laughed, pulling her in for a bigger kiss.  "Marry me?"

 

"Yes, duh!" Darcy nodded.  She sighed as he embraced her and let out a little giggle when he began spinning them in happy circles. 

 

 

"So---we're all good here?" Natasha asked from the doorway.

 

"Oh---oh, shit, Ian," Darcy wrinkled her nose as Steve put her back on her feet, but didn't let up on his close hold.

 

"Don't worry," Natasha assured her as her phone buzzed.  She looked down and nodded, "I've got it all taken care of."

 

"Wait a minute!" Darcy shouted as Natasha began to walk away.  "You could have done that the whole time, couldn't you?!"

 

"Yes, but then how was this big dumbbell for brains ever going to just pull the cord and ask you?" Natasha smirked. 

 

"You---you're out of control, Romanoff!" Steve shouted after her.

 

"Watch it, punk.  That's my lady you're disrespecting."

 

Bucky turned into the room with a garment bag thrown over his shoulder.  He smiled down at Darcy before Sam came into the doorway as well, bumping into Bucky obnoxiously and pouting only slightly when he didn't budge.  Sam threw a ring box to Steve, who easily caught it.

 

"We doin' this?" Sam wondered hopefully.

 

"I'd certainly hope so," Bucky smirked. 

 

"Hold on, this isn't what I wanted, I want a wedding with Steve that's ours," Darcy reiterated. 

 

"Yeah, Natalia handled it," Bucky nodded easily.  "C'mon, little lady, outta the room.  We got your groom to attend to."

 

Darcy stomped to the doorway and stood on her tiptoes to see past Bucky and Sam's shoulders, and sure enough, there was a large crew of people working the church, bringing in Darcy's favorite flowers in beautiful arrangements.  Ian had been whisked away, obviously not too bothered that he wasn't getting married that day.  The organ had been replaced with a string quartet, and even the minister was replaced with Thor, who was beaming and waving at Darcy from the altar. 

 

"I---I---," Darcy shook her head slowly in amazement.  Everything was perfect.  Even her dress that Natasha had thrown at her head earlier that morning.  It was exactly what she had wanted.

 

"Not getting cold feet, are you?" Sam wondered.

 

"Don't wave that white feather, doll," Bucky reached out his right hand and patted her on top of her head.  "Look at that idiot back there.  He's the happiest I've ever seen him."

 

Darcy turned and sure enough Steve was standing there, useless to the world, a dreamy grin on his face as he stared back at Darcy with stars in his eyes.

 

"Oh alright, yes.  Okay, this is good. I can do this," Darcy nodded eagerly.

 

"Good," Bucky reached down and hugged her, smacking a kiss on her forehead.  "Besides, gotta get you two hitched and hitched good, don't want anyone saying that my little nephew you got cooking in your belly is some illegitimate bastard."

 

"Dammit, James!" Natasha called out from the other side of the small chapel.  "She didn't KNOW that yet! I was going to tell her after the honeymoon."

 

A large crashing sound echoed and the floor boards of the chapel gave an odd groaning sound five seconds later as Darcy stared at a suddenly livid Natasha in startled confusion.   The look melted and was slowly replaced with one of joyful realization. 

 

"Really?" she breathed out.

 

"Really," Jane called out helpfully where she was organizing the army of florists.  "I portalled some of your pee away from you three weeks ago and you're totally preggo."

 

 

"Gross," Sam sucked his teeth.

 

"So, does anyone want to try to revive Stevie boy over there?" Bucky wondered hopefully.  He carefully turned Darcy around to see that her new fiancé and father to her unborn child was passed out on his back, a big smile stretching at his lips even in unconsciousness.  "Seems that he should be awake to get married."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sappy shieldshock goodness with badass Jane and the always ultra amazing Nat. I wish I could spend all day writing that stuff.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	8. 99 Candles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday, Steve Rogers!

**99 Candles**

* * *

 

“She’s really going to do it, isn’t she?”

 

Bucky couldn’t help the slow grin taking over his face as he looked over at an absolutely perplexed Sam Wilson, who was busy watching one very short pipsqueak carefully covering a relatively small three tier cake with ninety-nine candles.  Bucky crossed his arms, both of them thanks to the outlandish generosity of the Wakandan people, and watched as his own relatively short redhead began flicking the candle lighter on and off ominously.  

 

“She really, really is,” Bucky nodded slowly.

 

“Okay, so I may not have been friends with Steve way back when telephones weren’t invented yet, and the car was something you pedaled with your feet,” Sam clearly had to cut himself off, because he could honestly pick on Bucky and his ridiculous age all day if he had the time and opportunity.  But guests were starting to come into the common room of the Secret Avenger’s facility, and Natasha was handing the thoroughly tested lighter to Darcy.  Sarcastic insults had to be sacrificed for brevity.  “The last four years, Steve hasn’t really liked celebrating his birthday.  Like at all.”

 

“And yet, we just had a very nice barbeque with all the fixins, a really entertaining game of kickball on the south lawn, and even an impromptu dance under the twilight,” Bucky listed off.  “And all because Steve lost a bet to Lewis, and is stubborn enough to enjoy something she was tryin’ to annoy him with.”

 

“The two of them are gonna be trouble, aren’t they?” Sam sighed as Darcy began lighting the candles.  “She’s not gonna back down until he breaks, and he’s gonna refuse to break so she doesn’t have the satisfaction of seeing him break, huh?”

 

Steve and Darcy had been in this serious dance around each other for eight months now.  She’d come back from travels with Jane Foster with a remedy to heal Bucky’s fractured mind, and while Steve had been eternally grateful to have his friend back, he’d been at his wit’s end on finding a way to thank Darcy properly.  Until he’d saved her life two weeks later, when she and Jane had been attacked by AIM on a jaunt to collect data a few hundred miles away from their new home.

 

For some reason, the two idiots in question didn’t address their sexual tension and mutual attraction like normal humans.  Instead, they started to try and oneup each other in ways to be overtly friendly and helpful.  Darcy repaid Steve for saving her life by starting up an online campaign to clean up all of Team Cap’s images, and it had really begun to work.  Steve’s approval rating in the media was now over double that of the President’s, which wasn’t saying much, but was still pretty impressive from what it had been  Steve repaid her that favor by bringing her her favorite donuts...from twelve hundred miles away.

 

It had been going on and on and on, and each repaid favor was even more desperate and almost angry had it not been for the insistent civility they both lavished upon one another. 

 

The two idiots were too stubborn to just stop trying to out-nice each other and just get naked already.

 

“I’ve been waiting my whole life for this,” Bucky sighed happily as he reached for the poncho that one of the Barton kids had handed him earlier.  He popped it over his head and fussed with getting it just right as the bonfire on the cake started to grow and grow and grow.  “That stubborn asshole has finally met his stubborn asshole match, and she’s missing that nice, fluffy tiny molecule that Peg had, so now I get free entertainment for the rest of my damned life.”

 

“You got an extra one of those?” Sam wondered, eyeing up Bucky’s rainproof poncho covetously.

 

“Stuff it, Bird-brain,” Bucky grinned.  Steve wandered into the room, drug by the Barton kids and he looked physically pained for one full second before he saw Darcy lighting the last candle on top of the cake, then he quickly put on that phony show smile..  Bucky cleared his throat before shout singing, “ _ Happy Birthday to you!!!” _

 

The rest of the room joined in and when it came to the like  _ Happy Birthday Dear _ \---

 

_ ‘ROGERS!’ _

 

_ ‘STEEEEEVEEEEEEE!’ _

 

_ ‘Uncle Steeeeeeeeeeeevieeeee!’ _

 

_ ‘YOU OLD GERIATRIC ASSHOLE!’ _

 

Were all heard around the room.  Steve stole a glance at Darcy, who was smiling as she politely sang  _ ‘Captain Rogers _ ’.  His eyes darted to the ninety-nine candles on the cake, then to the sprinkler system that Barton and Lang had struggled with for two whole weeks, then back to Darcy and her white t-shirt.  She saw the whole movement and arched a defiant eyebrow in return.

 

“ _ Happy Birthday to you!”  _ the song came to a close with the Barton kids tacking on “ _ And a hundred more!!!!’ _

 

“Blow out the candles and then you get presents and cake,” Darcy promised with a big, cheesy smile..

 

“Thank you, Darcy,” Steve said as politely as possible.  “I’ll have to repay the favor.”

 

“Good lord,” Sam muttered off to the side in the closet as he tried to find a raincoat or umbrella.  

 

“Her birthday is September 14th,” Natasha said in an aside, giving Darcy a wink when the younger woman looked outraged at the betrayal.  

 

“DUDE, the cake is gonna melt soon, blow it out!” Scott demanded.  

 

“Make a wish!” Lila insisted.

 

“Okay, here we go,” Steve took a deep breath before he began blowing a steady stream of air at the candles.  

 

Natasha put up her umbrella immediately.

 

The smoke from the extinguished flames wafted up to the ceiling and Clint waved his hands around but quickly realized what the end goal was and began ushering his kids out of the room, grabbing Laura’s hand and hightailing it out of there..  

 

The sprinklers went off and everyone squealed as Steve blew out the last dozen candles before the water could extinguish them.  

 

“AWW CAKE NO!” Laura Barton whined from the patio door.

 

“The real cake is outside anyway,” Jane shrugged and quickly darted from the quickly waterlogged room.  

 

Sam watched from the closet, while Natasha stood by with her umbrella protecting her and Bucky stood comfortably with his poncho.  But Steve and Darcy stood there, like two stubborn idiots, staring at each other as the smoke from the ninety-nine candles dispersed and the very high powered sprinklers showered down on them.

 

Darcy stood a little straighter as her t-shirt went translucent, and Steve’s eyes darted down again, his mouth dropping open at the sight of a star spangled bra.  He smiled and then pulled one of the extinguished candles from the cake, licking off the icing that was thankfully, still real.  

 

“Break dammit,” Bucky muttered.  “Somebody break.”

 

“Ninety-nine candles,” Steve huffed out, a soft smile replacing the overly polite one he had been using too often since meeting Darcy.

 

“Keep me around, and I’ll light this whole damned place on fire next year with one hundred candles,” Darcy promised, pushing wet hair out of her face and smirking up at him mischievously.  

 

“Maybe next year, it can be a little less public, a little more private,” Steve glanced back down at her translucent t-shirt and realized that his own t-shirt had met a similar fate.  So on a lark, he pulled it right off.

 

Darcy took in a deep breath and blew it out very slowly.  

 

“Thatta boy,” Bucky commentated from the sidelines.

 

“Bucky?” Darcy questioned.

 

“Yes, little lady?” Bucky waved from under his poncho.

 

“Scram,” Darcy ordered.

 

“I’m fine with the water,” Bucky promised cheekily.

 

“Buck.  Scram.”

 

Something in Steve’s voice had Natasha in motion, grabbing Lang, who had stood there, silent in the rain the entire time with an excited smile pasted on his face, as well as Wanda, who had stayed dry thanks to a wave of red energy above her head.  Natasha pointed once at Bucky, who heaved a heavy sigh before doing whatever his lady said.  

 

On his way out of the room he grabbed Sam right out of the closet and manhandled him away.

 

“How long are these sprinklers going to last?” Darcy wondered, looking up at the ceiling.  She had expected everyone to get wet, not drowned.  

 

“Lang and Barton are used to bigger explosions, they figured they needed more than the average amount of water, I guess,” Steve admitted, taking a step forwards into Darcy’s personal space.  “You said I got cake and presents.”

 

“You had some cake,” she gestured to the candle he still held in his hands, her eyes traveling back up to his face by way of his very wet torso and chest and shoulders and neck and she felt something short circuit in her brain.

 

“Alright, now what, Darcy?” Steve wondered genuinely.  “Cause I have to admit, the past eight months have been a little---frustrating.  But still…”

 

“A lot of fun?” Darcy wondered.

 

“Yeah, a lot of fun,”  Steve agreed.  “A birthday boy gets presents, or so I’ve heard.”

 

“Yeah, yeah they do,” Darcy nodded before launching herself at him, finding his skin slippery with water, but also finding that it didn’t matter that much as he put his arms around her and hoisted her up against him, holding her just close enough that his lips were separated from his by millimeters.  “Happy Birthday, Steve.”

 

“Thanks, I can tell it’s going to be a good one,” he nodded, his nose bumping into hers.  “I’ve waited a long time to kiss you, Darcy.”

 

“I hear old timers move a little slower than young whippersnappers like myself.”

 

“Oh, you’re gonna get it,” Steve promised before pressing his lips to hers hungrily.  

 

“I look forward to it, old timer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then they made out under the sprinklers for forty-five minutes. 
> 
> The sprinklers ran for seven hours. 
> 
> They're really used to huge explosions after all.


	9. Awful Waffles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's national waffle day!!!!
> 
> and you know my tumblr name is [wahwahwaffles ](http://wahwahwaffles.tumblr.com/)?  Cause I love them dude.
> 
> Well here is a waffle oneshot! (warning: Buckynat if that ain't your thing don't give this a ring)

**Chapter Nine: Awful Waffles**  

 

* * *

 

“Hide!  Darcy’s making waffles again.”

 

Sam’s announcement was rushed, whispered and scared.  It had its intended effect and everyone of the Secret Avengers, plus the Barton kids, abandoned their journey to the main cabin and scattered in a panic.   Clint actually got teary eyed, but no one could blame him.  

 

He’d been stupid enough to try one of Darcy’s waffles just three months ago, when she and Jane Foster had finally arrived at the hidden base of operations in the foothills of the Appalachia.  She had a star spangled waffle maker, literally.  It had been the only thing she had brought with her when Natasha had rushed them out of a science conference before Thaddeus Ross could arrest them for unregistered  _ super science _ .   Apparently it was more important for Darcy to keep making waffles rather than even change her clothing.  

 

(It didn’t matter, because she’d been borrowing big cozy sweatshirts from Steve Rogers and leggings from Wanda.  No one was complaining, especially not Steve).

 

Clint had been the first victim of Darcy’s waffles, but he hadn’t been the last.

 

She had a passion for waffle-ry, but not quite the talent.  For some reason, she couldn’t even pull off a decent plain waffle, even with the bisquick mix.  Everyone that came out of her star spangled waffle maker somehow had the consistency of styrofoam and tasted of funky cheese.  And that would have been bad enough.  But Darcy was experimental.

 

Disgusting waffles with nutella drizzle and gummy bears sprinkled on top.  Wanda had nearly vomited.

 

Pumpkin spice waffles with maple syrup and candied pecans sprinkled artfully on top.  Scott had turned neon green after  _ smelling  _ it.

 

Savory waffles with sausage and cheese cooked into it.  Laura Barton had threatened to destroy the star spangled waffle maker.

 

The problem was, that Darcy was otherwise, a very excellent cook and baker.  The things she could do with flour butter and sugar were usually quite amazing.  Which was why they let her make chicken and waffles once a week.  Everyone eagerly devoured the chicken and found another place for the waffles.  There was a stack of them in the brush at the edge of the forest.  Not even the woodland creatures would touch them.  No one would voluntarily consume them.

 

Except for Steve.  Steve always ate the waffles.  He always thanked her for cooking and never gagged or vomited or winced as he ate the truly awful waffles.  Everyone knew  _ exactly _ why he did it too. Sharon had dropped by shortly after the events in Berlin, and had given Steve the the ever awkward ‘ _ It’s not you it’s me and the fact that I’m super into Maria Hill.  But we can TOTALLY stay friends _ .’  Steve had taken it pretty well, all things considered.  And then two months after that Natasha had arrived with Jane Foster and Darcy Lewis and her star spangled waffle maker.

 

Steve had been a goner ever since.  Clearly too much of a goner to say no to truly awful waffles.

 

“Cap, c’mon, let’s go find tree rats to grill out in the wild, Lewis is making waffles and no chicken to go with it,” Sam grabbed Steve’s arm as the man tried to keep walking towards the communal building that Darcy was doing her waffle alchemy in.

 

Steve smiled and shrugged, “No thanks, I’d rather have the waffles.”

 

“Man, you are sick and twisted” Sam accused.  “You don’t have to keep eating those shield shaped discs of death just cause you got a crush on Lewis.  Just man up and tell her you want to keep her cabin warm at night. A girl who owns a Captain America themed waffle maker is not gonna say no to some patriotic booty calls.”

 

“First off, don’t talk about the lady like that,” Steve warned, very serious as he carefully pulled his arm out of Sam’s grasp.  The he shrugged and smiled, “Besides, there is nothing wrong with her waffles, you guys are exaggerating, is all.”

 

“We found a full grown grizzly bear dead after he ate one,” Sam disputed.

 

“That’s not true, and you know it,” Steve laughed.  “Go on, run Laura into town and grab pizza for everyone.  I will go and eat all the non-poisonous waffles.”

 

“Steve, you have super serum running through your veins, but you are not indestructible,” Sam sighed.  He saluted the Captain lazily and nodded, “Best of luck to you, you brave and idiotic fool.”

 

Steve laughed as Sam took off faster than he had when Hydra had been on their heels.  The man who used to call himself Captain America watched as his friends scattered and then re-organized, celebrating their escape and cheering about pizza.  Steve turned his course back to the communal cabin, stuffing his hands into his pocket and whistling all the way.

 

When he opened the door, he wasn’t assaulted with the smell of Darcy’s dubious waffles (dried paste and black licorice).  Instead he was greeted with the smell of sweet chocolate wafting through the room.  The room was lit with candles, the orange glow warm and welcoming.  The chocolate smell was coming from a single large platter on top of the kitchen island with half a dozen small chocolate cakes, dusted with powdered sugar.  A little bowl of freshly picked strawberries also sat on the platter, looking plump and juicy.  

 

But the most plump and juicy thing in the kitchen area was the beautiful dame sitting on top of the island holding a fork in her hand.  Brown curls fell around her shoulders, a welcoming smile was stretched across bold red lips, and not a stitch of clothing was to be seen on her luscious curves, save for a large white apron with the words  _ Kiss the Chef _ emblazoned on the front of it.  

 

Steve was never that great at taking direction from others, but he figured this time he could handle it well enough.  He ambled towards the kitchen island Darcy was perched on and leaned down, pressing his lips to hers, a moan in the back of his throat when his tongue flicked against sweet, sugar tainted lips.  

 

“Waffles?” Darcy questioned with a wink when Steve pulled away.

 

“Sweetheart, I don’t know how you managed to do it, and how you manage to do it every time, but those fools ran off,” Steve assured her.  “They never even think to eat them anymore to see if they’ve improved.”

 

“It’s important to make a bad impression with the waffles at first.  Then I don’t have to spend all my time making them,” Darcy waggled her eyebrows.  The waffles she made for Steve were _always_ delicious.  “And I never knew that the awful waffle scam would give a girl the opportunity for  _ very  _ special two month anniversary date night, but they keep surprising me.”

 

“Clever, resourceful dame,” Steve sighed before leaning back in and placing sloppy, worshipful kisses on her neck.

 

“Don’t you want your dessert first?” Darcy asked her voice colored with a happy sigh as Steve’s mouth did its best work on the tender spot at the base of her neck.  

 

“I’m having my dessert first, my sweetheart is the best dessert,” Steve assured her.

 

“But the chocolate cakes are  _ molten _ lava.  They have a time limit,” Darc giggled as he went to his knees anyway, pulling on her thighs so she was flush with the counter’s edge and right where he needed her to be.

 

“They’ll keep,” Steve assured her, throwing one of her legs over his shoulder.

 

“You make a strong argument,” Darcy bit her bottom lip.  “You’re very good with words.  With your mouth.”

 

“Mmhmm,” Steve arched an eyebrow before moving in.

 

The front door of the communal cabin opened, the creaking sound unmistakable.  

 

“I heard there were waffles?  Well, I’ll be damned.”

 

“Bucky!?  What in the hell are you doing here?” Steve demanded as he stood up and turned, shielding Darcy’s nudity with his body.  He hadn’t known of any plot or plan to bring Bucky out of cryofreeze.  He was thrilled, but he was also very aware of his naked girlfriend behind him and the compromising position they had been found in.   Natasha was in the doorway a knowing smirk on her face.  Steve rolled his eyes at her, the queen of the surprise.  “Romanoff.”

 

“Rogers,” Natasha answered back blithely.

 

“Who’s the pretty dame hiding behind all your stupid?” Bucky craned his neck to get a peek.  

 

A little hand waved up around Steve’s left shoulder, fingers wiggling adorably.

 

“Hi!  I’m Darcy, and it’ll be really great to meet you when I’m not naked,” Darcy managed to get half of her face up and above Steve’s shoulder to look at Bucky.  

 

“Well, now I’ve never said no to saying hello to a naked dame,” Bucky chuckled.  He looked back at Natasha and moved his eyebrows up and down very quickly, “She seems a pretty sort, doesn’t she Red?”

 

“Oh, she’s my favorite,” Natasha agreed, causing Darcy to  _ awwww _ .  

 

“Here, take these, they’re molten lava chocolate cakes,” Steve held up the platter, eager to get Bucky and Natasha out of the room while Darcy was nude.  He was sure it was only a matter of time before the two former Russian assassins tried to lure his girl away from him.  

 

“I was promised waffles,” Bucky disputed, taking the platter nonetheless.  

 

“Pal, I’m so happy to see you, I really am, but you gotta scram for a couple minutes until I can find my girl’s clothing,” Steve said truthfully.  “And no, you can’t have a peek cause if you saw her naked, you’d steal her from me, you and Natasha both.”

 

“Oh honey, you’re so sweet,” Darcy cooed at him.

 

“I can’t even get a hug?” Bucky demanded, holding out his arms, but still craning his neck to get a look at Darcy.

 

“Get outta here!” Steve ordered with a laugh.  

 

“But I will get waffles, right?” Bucky questioned.  

 

“Oh, you’ll get waffles, the best waffles,” Steve assured him, waving him and Natasha off.

 

And the damndest thing was, that even when Darcy served the  _ truly  _ awful waffles the next morning, and not the ones she served to Steve unbeknownst to the rest of the crew, both Bucky and Natasha sang their praises.  

 

Waffle dates were definitely not going to work anymore.  Unless they made them doubles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> : D  
> WAFFLES!
> 
>  


End file.
